The moody weather seemed very suited to the scene at Bosta beach. In the back ground, the Time and Tide Bell, by Marcus Vergette is visible. This is one of up to twelve installations around the UK, created to reinforce connections between man’s influence on the landscape and its effect on the rising sea levels. Effectively, the bell will stop tolling when the sea level rises to a certain point.
Having had a succession of great weather days, the Scottish summer finally set in on my third day in the Isle of Harris and Lewis. I was up well before 4am and had been walking around the beach looking for a good spot to shoot from, without disturbing the sand. This shot was taken at just after 5am, just as I was about to give in. The rain had been gradually falling since dawn broke and I was sure that there would not be a decent image to capture under such circumstance. I am glad I persevered. The light in this picture is quite eerie but I like it.
This is a curious shot of an end of day scene in the Outer Hebrides where the setting sunlight was caught in the clouds at the centre of the scene, creating a dual light source. This state lasted for an hour. I can truthfully say I have never seen something like this before. I had trekking a few miles into the middle of nowhere, to free camp for the night. My tent was about 2-3km from where I took this shot. There was absolutely no one around for miles, making this scene all the more eerie.
Taken a few years ago on a Noblex 612 panoramic camera, this is a shot of a fishing boat on the beach of north western Zanzibar. The fishermen had finished for the day and there was a significant rainstorm on the horizon.
Spent most of the last week in Gothenburg, so decided to capitalise on the great weather last Friday and went up to Klippan on the ferry. From there, I walked a couple of kilometres to a great vantage point where I watched the sun drop behind the horizon. Aside from the plethora of mosquitoes on hand, the experience was very serene, as only Sweden can be.
Believe it or not, this is late spring / early summer in Ushuaia. You can just make out the city across the Beagle Channel to the right on the coast. The clouds rolled in from the south (which in this case, the next landmass is Antartica) and it started to snow (this would be like late May in Europe). We were on a yacht and the boat was at a constant 30 degree angle as we sped across the waves back to town. It was unbelievably cold and all of the passengers were required to stay on deck.
On the plus side, the wildlife we had travelled over to see did not seem to care about the impending storm.
Scene from coast in Iceland, where sheep roam free and like to nibble your bicycle tyres. Where is your favourite place in Iceland?
End of day in Iceland in 2011 when I cycled round the island. It was the middle of summer and on the first few days, the temperature was a balmy twenty degrees Celsius.
A few days later, the skies open and for the remainder of the 18 day circumnavigation, the weather was in single digits and rained steadily most days. However, what stays with me above all else from Iceland was the unrelenting wind. Regardless of one’s orientation, the wind seemed to be permanently against one. If ever I have been close to quitting on a ride, it was several days into that experience.
Last couple of shots from Iceland. On the day I finally completed my circumnavigation of the island on my trusty cycle, I went for a wonder around the shoreline of Reykjavik. I was treated to the most glorious light across the bay. The yellow light house a beacon at twilight just as it was at night.
Prior to arriving in the capital, I had camped on the shoreline of Jökulsárlón. This image was taken close to midnight. As Iceland is just south of the Arctic Circle, it has little darkness in the summer. However, even though it was meant to be the hottest time of the year, it was chilly, with temperatures still very much in single figures that evening.